The past comes to visit

I don't write much about my ex husband and father of my children here. Not that there isn't a whole story there. However, most of it is in the past, or just not a part of everyday life. When my ex husband and I divorced just over 11 years ago and he moved in with his soon to be wife, it was the most painful heartache I have felt in my life. Months later, the first Christmas I was to spend without my children, was alleviated when he chose to spend that week on his honeymoon. He and his new wife moved only about 50 miles away but time spent with his children was sporadic , and then rare. A couple years later he moved again, this time about 2000 miles away and the kids time with their father was reduced to once a year for a couple days. If they were lucky.
He could have made it work, the long distance I mean, if he would have picked up the phone a little more often. (phone calls are as rare as a couple times a year) But he never found the time. This has been a double edged sword. The children love him, they miss him, he is their dad. But they don't know him. And the rare instances with him bring back the hurt feelings and wonder of just how they fit into his life.
Last week was the commencement of his third marriage. I used to love this man. I wish him well, I wish him happiness. But I wish it more so, for my children, our children.

He is in town this week, I am sure it is for his own personal gratification, to show off his latest acquisition, his wife. He also likes to show off his kids. MY kids. He is an unwarranted, proud daddy. He has set aside three days, of his honeymoon, starting today, to meet with my kids.
Of course they have mixed feelings. They feel awkward, it is like they are meeting with a stranger. AND his new wife, another stranger. They feel more than a bit slighted, he talks on and on about his two children from marriage #2, the ones he has been with the past 9 years, and also about wife #3's children who will now have his time. But rarely asks questions about what is going on with our kids. My kids. How do you make someone understand what should come naturally to them? How do you make someone care about their own children?

This will be a tough week for my kids. All I can do is, as I have done for the past eleven years, be here with a warm supportive hug and kiss. Open to discussion as they need.
I have begun to hate the past in my present.

On a lighter note: Black Jack and Rachel relaxing on Sunday afternoon

In other news!
We can no longer call Rachel metal mouth, or rail road tracks... Yahoo!
She got her braces off!
Pictures to follow.